Poppy Promises
by Celestial Secrets
Summary: In another world, Sakura and Naruto make each other different promises.


**Title:** Poppy Promises

**Summary:** In another life, Sakura and Naruto make different promises.

**Genre:** Angst/Friendship/Drama/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** T

**Date Uploaded:** 9 September 2011

**Status:** Complete

**Warnings:** Some slightly graphic imagery, language, angst, mentions of drug use, and hints of abuse, underage sex, and pedophilia. This is an alternate universe fic, so expect character behavior different from what happens in canon as the events are different. I hope this isn't too terrible. Also, there is no shipping in this story. This isn't a romance.

**Disclaimer:** Naruto is a manga series written and illustrated by Masashi Kishimoto. The anime series is produced by Studio Pierrot and TV Tokyo and is distributed by Viz Media in North America. I own nothing.

**Author's Notes:** This story just came out of nowhere. I was reading a lovely fic by octavius_x on LiveJournal (many thanks to the incredible ffnet author coincident, who pointed me in her direction) when I came across a description of Naruto's bloody gums. Inspired, I tapped out the first paragraph of this story and expected to leave it at that: a single paragraph with no aspirations to be part of a larger story. My subconscious wouldn't let that fly though, and words just kept jumping from my keyboard to form sentences that nearly formed a story. I wrote 80% of this in one go. I wish I could do that with the various other stories living in my files. I meant to cap this monster around 4,000 words, but I clearly suck at ending things. Also, I've been trying to improve my dialogue writing as I have a bad habit of writing mostly exposition in my stories. So, I've been trying to make them more active and immediate. I don't think I succeeded, but I'll continue writing and working at it.

This is my first piece of Naruto fanfiction that I will have uploaded to ffnet. I have several other Naruto stories hiding out (and a couple Kingdom Hearts ones), but they're not finished. Maybe I'll have the courage to clean them up some day. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism, or really, any review at all. Feedback is wonderful— it means people other than me have read this story.

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Naruto grinned and Sakura winced. Blood oozed from his gums and stained his teeth a ghastly red. The swelling around his face made him look like a bloated jack-o-lantern. But it turned out that even a wry smile hurt too much, and Naruto quickly dropped his humorous facade.

Sakura pursed her lips and felt her eyes dry— or maybe moisten. The tension in her stomach and the feeling of her pulse distracted her from analyzing her proximity to crying. She tugged the stool closer so that their knees almost brushed. A split lip and a busted nose dripped more blood down Naruto's face and onto that obnoxious orange hoodie he always wore. Maybe he would finally get a new one. The warm air had already dried the thin trails on his face so that little maroon flakes brushed off as Sakura dabbed them with a damp washcloth.

Naruto jerked back when she applied too much pressure to his lip. It started bleeding again. He made a strained, yet comical face as he maneuvered his tongue within his mouth. Sakura thought of a jack-o-lantern again and dumbly wondered if she could carve a likeness the next Halloween. Dried blood still speckled his chin and around his nose and bruise dark colors started to mottle his swollen left cheek. Sweat had dried his hair into limp spikes. Miraculously, it seemed, Naruto had avoided any punches to his eyes and as a result, Sakura could clearly see every blue flicker to her face, to the walls, to his lap, and into a wincing no-space as he still scrunched up his face, thickly pushing his tongue against his teeth.

"I think he loosened a tooth."

Well, that would explain the blood still coating his teeth.

"I'm not a dentist, so I don't know what to do about that. Don't wiggle it. Maybe if you just pushed it back into place and leave it alone?"

Sakura carefully brushed her thumbs along his nose, feeling for a break and avoided looking at his mouth. The lip had stopped bleeding, but it protruded in a lopsided and bloody pout on the right side of his face.

"Neh, Sakura, I don't think he broke my nose. He just landed a good one."

His voice was thick, puffy sounding. Understandable, due to all the damage done to his face, thought Sakura: a split lip, a swollen cheek, a loose tooth, and a bloody nose. She wondered if there was any more, less visible damage to Naruto's body, or maybe he had just let Sasuke sit on him and punch him in the face.

"Stupid Naruto, he landed _several_ good ones. Did you _let_ him do this to you like some freaking _martyr_ or did you at least try and run or break his arm in return?"

"I dodged _some_ of them! And he didn't get my eyes at least."

"Naruto, you shouldn't have let him hit you at all! You're supposed to stay _away_ from Sasuke! Letting him vent anger out on you won't save him! You're not a punching bag and you don't deserve his hate. He's lost. He's not the same person any more."

When Naruto turned his head to look away and didn't immediately respond, Sakura continued cleaning his face. No more blood remained now, but the swelling and bruising had become worse now that they had had time to settle. She stood up, pushing the stool back with a screech against the linoleum floor and briefly left him at the table. She returned with a glass of water and a towel wrapped bag of ice.

She set the glass down next to his fist on the table and handed him the ice.

"Here, rinse your mouth. That's got to taste disgusting by now. And keep the ice on your face; alternate it between the hurt spots. I can get you another if you want."

Sakura sat down as he morosely took a gulp of water and swished it around his mouth. He spit it back in the glass, then spit again, dying the water a dark vermillion. For a moment, they both watched the watery blood loosely uncurl and billow throughout the glass.

"I wouldn't stop talking."

Sakura glanced up, "What?"

"I wouldn't stop talking. That's why he kept aiming for my face."

"Well don't sound _sorry_ for it. He's the one who punched _you._"

"It . . . He . . . Sakura, I just wanted to _talk_ with him. Why did he start using in the first place? I mean, we've always been better friends than any of that stupid gang. He was always so sad, but why didn't he _talk_ with either of us? We _wanted to help him_, why couldn't he _see_ that?"

Naruto's eyes had filled up with tears and Sakura felt her eyes go dry— or wet— again. He hadn't been crying when he pounded on her door, hadn't even looked like he had just stopped crying. For him to do so now was just . . . _Ugh. _She blinked several times in rapid succession. God, if _Naruto_ started crying, _she_ would start crying and then they'd be a giant, broken-hearted mess just waiting for life's lessons to kick in.

"_Naruto_." God, her voice sounded thick. It was hard to talk when it felt like her throat had tightened around her heart. "He- Sasuke _knew_ we cared for him, he just didn't- _doesn't care._ He didn't want love or friendship or good memories. Still doesn't. Orochimaru clearly offered him a better deal. Sasuke never wanted to be around this. I- I've finally accepted that."

Her voice hitched and the well of tears pooled in her eyes reached their brink. Maintaining eye contact with Naruto's blurry, blue eyes and wet face, Sakura couldn't prevent herself from crying. Pressure built between her eyes as hot tears started to trail down her cheeks. She pursed her lips as she felt her nose start to run. She _hated _crying. Her chin scrunched up, her cheeks and eyes turned red, her nose would run, so she would have to constantly sniffle, and _god, _but Naruto was crying too and she couldn't help it.

"Sakura," Naruto swallowed and rubbed his eyes. "Sakura, _god_, his _arms_, Sakura. They- they're so _sad_. They're just _covered_ in bruises. His veins, it's like they're trying to _die_, Sakura. He was so _pale_ and _ugh_, even his _hair_ seems dead, Sakura! And I just couldn't stop talking! I wanted to hear him speak, to make sure that some part of him was still alive. Because, maybe if he heard me, maybe if I annoyed him like old times, he'd- he'd _remember_ the old times. He'd remember that they _weren't that bad_, that we were his _friends. _

_"So what_ if his family died? I've _never_ had family! _He_ was my family! _Mr. Umino_ was my family! _Kakashi_ was my family!_You_ were my family! You all _still are_ my family! _God_, Sakura, I thought, I thought that maybe I could make him see that and that we could share. That he was still welcome, that we all wanted him back. That we could _help _him. I don't want it to be too late. I don't want him to die, Sakura. He- he still means _so damn much_ to me- to _us._ "

"Naruto, _he doesn't want our help_," Sakura whispered.

Maybe if she said it quietly, he would listen.

Maybe if she said it quietly, it wouldn't be true.

"He doesn't _want_ to remember. He- he wants to _die_. He doesn't even _care_ that he's screwing around with what got his family killed. That's actually probably _why_ he's doing it in the first place, Naruto! Orochimaru gave him a connection to his family and a way to feel better about living. Sasuke's too much of a coward to simply k-_kill_ himself, so he's letting Orochimaru do it slowly. And Orochi- that _sick bastard_ gets Sasuke in return."

Thinking about it made Sakura want to vomit. She could remember the first time the three of them met the vile drug lord. A class field trip in middle school had led them to one of the big museums down town, the natural history one.

He had slid up to their small group at lunch in the fast food joint across the street and sat himself down across from Sasuke. His yellow eyes, the dark, bruised lids, the too-pale skin, the long, slick hair just screamed bad news, yet a slithering voice like black oil had somehow inveigled Sasuke into forgetting about the man's disturbing appearance.

Sakura had loudly insisted they move tables, hoping to draw the attention of nearby patrons, but no one had even glanced over. No one wanted to look at Orochimaru; no one wanted to acknowledge his presence. Yet, soon as he had mentioned that he had known Sasuke's brother, the oily man was all Sasuke could focus on. Sakura had clung to his arm, begging him, nearly in tears, that they leave. This man was clearly bad news and _besides_, they weren't supposed to talk to strangers, especially ones as creepy as this. They should go get a chaperone or teacher. Ms. Anko had said she was eating nearby, right?

Surely, her desperate pleas and Naruto's obnoxious protestations had been heard by the other diners, but no one seemed willing to cross Orochimaru. The man seemed to radiate the essence of slimy, twisted drug lord from his very pores. His hair was too slick, his face was too sallow, and his clothes were too high quality to project an image of a respectable profession. The suit might have been tailored to fit, once, but the long sleeves gapped a touch too much at the wrists, and the shoulders bunched a touch too much at the neck. Sakura had taken all this in while still tugging on Sasuke's arm and looking around for a familiar face, preferably a teacher's.

She had quieted down in an instant though when she felt a leather shoe delicately trace up her bare calf. A small whimper escaped her lips and her fingers loosened on Sasuke's arm, but did not uncurl as she slowly turned her head in fear to make eye contact with Orochimaru. A lewd grin spread across his face as he leaned forward and made to touch her hair.

"You must be a friend of young _Sas_uke's. How _delightful.._. So pretty, too. What a unique hair color, don't you think _Sasuke_?"

The way the man lingered on Sasuke's name reminded her of a snake hissing out a warning, or hypnotizing its prey. The beguiling voice did nothing to hide the disturbingly intent appraisal though. The glimmer in Orochimaru's eyes hinted at something that made her intestines clench in revulsion. Sakura jerked back in horror before any contact could be made, and she desperately glanced from the disgusting man across from her to Sasuke's stoic face, pointedly ignoring her. Naruto had thankfully jumped to her defense.

"You_ freak!_ What the hell do you think you're doing here? Don't talk about Sakura like that and leave Sasuke alone! We don't want you or what you're selling! Get out of here before I punch you!"

The threat of violence had only made Orochimaru smirk more. The fact that his presence clearly perturbed Sakura and Naruto seemed to flatter him. "_Sasuke_, it doesn't seem that your friends like me. How . . . _upsetting._"

"They're _not_ my _friends._"

That stung. Sakura and Naruto knew that Sasuke often seemed to barely tolerate their presence a lot of the time, yet they had definitely thought that the friendship was _mutual_.

"_Eh?_ Sasuke, that's not true! You're just a bit annoyed right now, that's all. Come one. Lunch time's nearly over. We have to get back to the museum."

Sasuke had jerked his arm out of her hands and then repeated, "They're _not_ my _friends._"

Orochimaru's smiled as though he were intensely satisfied with that response. Sakura wished she had only pretended to see his tongue snake out and lick dry lips.

"Ah, I _see._ Well, _Sasuke_, I look forward to talking with you again in the future. Next time, minus your . . . _acquaintances_, perhaps?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Sasuke had shrugged as if he didn't care, but Sakura saw the way his eyes lingered on Orochimaru's face and the way his breath had quickened ever so slightly. _Damn it,_ why did this man have to mention Sasuke's stupid brother?

Sakura hadn't moved away from Sasuke's side yet, but she was still so very close to missing the slight brush against her knee indicating Orochimaru had passed Sasuke something underneath the table. Before she could grab it and see what it was though, he had shoved it into a khaki pocket and stood up.

"Sakura, Naruto, come on. Lunch is nearly over and we have to meet the group again."

That had been it. He hadn't said good-bye to Orochimaru, and he had stubbornly ignored every question Naruto and Sakura threw at him. Looking back on it, Sakura would grind her teeth every time she remembered they hadn't screamed for an adult: Mr. Umino, Kakashi, Ms. Anko, anyone. But afterward, neither she nor Naruto felt rejected enough by Sasuke to tattle on him to a teacher. At thirteen, they just couldn't justify selling out a friend. It didn't matter if Sasuke didn't consider them a friend in return. Also, the moment one of them might try to slip away, Sasuke would make the obvious conclusion of their true intentions.

Despite their unspoken pact on silence though, a teacher _had_ found out. Ms. Anko had seen them leave Orochimaru at the table. Where she was five minutes earlier, Sakura had no idea. After the field trip though, the three of them had been ushered into private counseling. How did they start talking to Orochimaru? What did he say to them? Why didn't they leave? Why didn't they call out for help? Why weren't they eating with a larger group of friends? Did he give them anything? Did it sound like he wanted to meet them again?

Sakura had no idea what Naruto and Sasuke had said during their sessions, but she had been totally honest. Authority figures still seemed to hold all of the answers in her eyes and she didn't want to protect that slime bag Orochimaru in any way at all. She even told them that she thought Orochimaru had passed Sasuke something under the table. No, she didn't know what— a card, maybe. A baggie? Sure, maybe, she didn't know though.

Afterward, she never spoke of it again. Maybe if she forgot it, it hadn't happened. Maybe Sasuke would continue to eat lunch with her and Naruto and he would think of them as friends. Maybe Sasuke had thrown out whatever Orochimaru had passed him.

Maybe she was a naïve idiot.

Still, Sakura didn't even tell Naruto about the gift under the table until two years later, when Sasuke left them for good.

Sakura had been the only one to say good-bye and plead with him to stay. She had cried and begged and professed her never-ending love him.

He had knocked her unconscious.

Sasuke dropped out of school, left his home, cut off all contacts from his former life. The police believed to know where he was, but they couldn't find him. Orochimaru was truly a snake and could hide anywhere. As a cruel taunt to his hometown though, the man tended to stay within the state, around the city, or in neighboring cities. A couple of times each year, the police would find a hideout that they believed Orochimaru and his disciples of junkies and chemists had previously abandoned.

Their strongest leads to Sasuke's location was a sprinkling of dead junkies around the city. All of them had criminal records and had been known as working for Orochimaru. Yet, no one ever confessed, no ties to a larger drug ring had ever been proven, and jail time had been served.

Orochimaru dealt with a wide spectrum of dealers and junkies. His skill at avoiding capture, or even a definite pinpoint on his location, indicated police and government infiltration. The network was so organized, so smooth, that it had to expand further than just drugs. Even simple baggies of marijuana could usually be traced back to the snake. Certainly every heavier drug had been imported and handled by him, if not manufactured or purified by his team of chemists. And lately, enough supposedly abandoned houses had caught fire to confirm that Orochimaru had started to lead the local meth-heads into his grasp, too.

The drug lord had made his mark in the cities. Junkies whispered his name and every dealer would report back to him: to tithe some of the profit and pick up a new shipment or to try and worm their way into his good graces. Even low-level high school dealers just trying to score some dough among their friends would eventually be inducted into Orochimaru's syndicate if they kept dealing long enough. Variations of his infamous triple-tomoe pinwheel symbol graffitied every city slum in the tri-state area, as well as a remarkable smattering throughout more distant states. The three winged pinwheel was a simple and iconic symbol: easy to reproduce and tweak as artistic license dictated, instantly recognizable, and indicative that more straight-edge citizens should beware. Ignorant high schoolers trying to rebel would even doodle it into their notebooks.

"Sakura, did you _read_, did you _hear _ about the last ones they found?"

Naruto had stopped crying now, but tears still magnified his blue eyes. Sakura gripped the edge of her skirt. She _had_ heard about the last ones. Only a month ago, five dead junkies had been found in a subway heading south into their city. Sakura had recognized their photographs on the evening news because she remembered Sasuke had hung around with them before running away. The only name she remembered though was Kimimaro.

All five bodies had the usual signs leading to Orochimaru— deep heroin tracks in the arm, bruises along the elbows and legs, sallow faces, dry hair, and a pinwheel tattoo near the neck— yet, this time the bodies seemed to have been _planted_ for the public to find. Kimimaro and the other four hadn't died of a simple overdose or even of a group suicide. The autopsy report on the bodies revealed that most of their major organs had been surgically removed. The bodies had been crudely stitched back together before being reclothed and arranged on a late night train. Security cameras had revealed nothing incriminating of course.

Sakura had felt sick when listening to the news report. She _remembered_ those five kids. Sasuke had hung out with them. _Sasuke_ could have been found with them— a mutilated corpse on a subway train. Bile tasted bitter on her tongue. She wanted to spit.

"Sakura, _what if it's Sasuke next?_ What if, what if they cut him up and _kill him_, Sakura?_ I_ _can't let that happen_. He, he's _still alive_, Sakura. We can't let them cut him up and take his lungs and his fucking _heart_ away, Sakura. That's _Sasuke's_ heart, Sakura. That's _Sasuke's. Heart. _That's _our heart, too, Sakura._ _That's our heart, too._"

Sakura couldn't even look at Naruto now. His hands gripped her shoulders and she could feel his tension. Tension coiled around him like a spring and his jagged, bit fingernails scratched the surface of her skin with barely constrained shaking. She clenched her skirt and sobbed, letting her hair hide her face as she faced her knees. Naruto continued to say her name too many times, refused to let her distance herself from the conversation, from the potential consequences of Sasuke's actions.

He wouldn't let her hate Sasuke. Even after everything Sasuke had done to them, even with Naruto sitting in front of her with his face smashed up like an ugly Halloween mask, he wouldn't let go of Sasuke. He refused to sever their friendship. He wouldn't let Sasuke slowly poison himself to death without reminding him that at least one person would miss him. Orochimaru might have convinced Sasuke to abandon his life for him with no regrets, but Naruto would not let Sasuke _die_ without putting up a fight.

"Sakura, Sakura, I- when I thought I saw him earlier, I was _so happy_. He was _alive._ Orochimaru hadn't destroyed his body yet, hadn't ripped out his heart yet, hadn't ripped out his damn eyes, yet. _Sakura_, I could still talk to him. I could still tell him that we want him back. I chased him, Sakura, I followed him back to some dingy, gross shit-hole, but I got to talk to him, Sakura."

"He bashed your head in for it, stupid! _Naruto_, it's too late. He doesn't want us. He's _never_ wanted us."

But she was still crying. She couldn't make eye contact yet, and she was denying any chance they might have to help him. It would hurt too much to continue loving Sasuke. She just couldn't do it. Sakura didn't believe that they could still save him. The night he knocked her out when she threatened to scream for help had solidified him as a lost cause. Sasuke had never loved her like she loved him. He had never loved her at all. She only hurt herself by devoting herself to making him happy. Her friendship hadn't worked, her shared lunches hadn't worked, her smiles hadn't worked, her body hadn't worked, her anger hadn't worked, and her threats hadn't worked.

Sasuke had decided to be a lost cause long before she or Naruto stepped in. Naruto had to accept that or else his heart would be ripped out of his chest when Sasuke's was, and Sakura couldn't lose both of her boys.

"_Naruto_, you need to believe it, Sasuke is _lost_. He might still be alive, but he died long before now, and I don't want you_ killing yourself _trying to bring him back! Naruto, please! Please, just, just _listen_, I need you _alive. _I don't want you dead, too. Sasuke's a junkie and, _yes,_ he will_ die_, probably soon. But, Naruto, you're still alive, and you can _stay that way._ Obsessing over Sasuke like you have been will _kill you, Naruto_. _I don't want you dead._"

Sakura's voice was hoarse now, yet somehow too shrill, like the rusty protests of an old gate. A barb had wedged itself around in her heart, bringing up old hurts, reminding her that no matter what she said about Sasuke, she still somewhat loved the bastard son of a bitch. She figured she was permitted at least a small level of hysteria at the moment. She sobbed into the front of Naruto's bloodstained hoodie, clinged to him right next to his heart. His arms wrapped around her awkwardly and he tried to tilt her chin up to look at him.

"B-but, _Sakura_, he's _still alive! _We can still _save him, _Sakura!"

"_No!_ God, Naruto, you _stupid idiot_! _Sasuke. Does. Not. Want. Us. To. Save. Him,_" she punctuated each word with a fierce jerk of his hoodie.

"_Naruto,"_ she spoke softer now, "Sasuke's more happy drugged up, being miserable and used more than he ever was with us. H-he didn't _like_ our friendship. I think, I think he didn't believe he _deserved_ it. It's like he's had this, this _death wish_ since before we ever met him. _Please,_ Naruto. Don't kill yourself going after him. You _anger_ him. Look at what he did to your face. Please, please, please, Naruto, just . . . just let him die in peace."

Silence enveloped them.

Sakura's tears had dried up, leaving only a few loud sniffles behind which she sloppily wiped onto Naruto's hoodie. It had already been ruined anyway. Naruto noticed, but didn't admonish her. His arms remained around her back and he slowly combed his fingers through the ends while deep in thought.

"He . . . He didn't attack me right away, you know. He _listened_ at first, Sakura. I told him about you thinking about medical school and, well, how you haven't had a boyfriend since him. I told him about my new mentor and how he was helping me keep my grades up and how we volunteered at the youth center together, and well, maybe even college for me. You, definitely, of course. Sasuke didn't punch me until I mentioned _him_. I asked if his arms hurt at all, because they looked pretty nasty. He got all tight, tense, like he didn't want to think about himself. Then, when I mentioned that Itachi had been on the news recently— you know, for that charity ball thing— he turned _purple_, I _swear_. It was really obvious that he was angry. And then he _lunged_ at me."

She couldn't allow herself to think of Sasuke thinking of her. The fact that he hadn't reacted angrily to a mention of her or even at simply _seeing_ Naruto had to be disregarded. Sasuke wasn't curious about his former friends. His lack of response had been apathy, not a quiet longing to hear good news. Sakura had consciously decided to let Sasuke leave her life, but when Naruto wouldn't let it drop, she had to force herself to believe that Sasuke was a lost cause. He brought them nothing but heartache. He had already stomped on their hearts, it would serve him right if Orochimaru cut out his.

But bonds couldn't be severed that easily. Anger could tint Sasuke's memory with a shade of regret, but Sakura wasn't capable of completely abandoning hope. She had been so in love with him when they were younger. Seeing him every day at school had lit up her heart.

She first met him when they entered middle school. The new sixth graders had come from several different elementary schools in the city, exposing them to larger class sizes, more apathetic teachers, and other kids. Sakura had focused on Sasuke right away as he simply and physically stood out from everybody else. His smooth, pale skin and dark hair set him apart from the other students who were just starting to bumble through puberty, and he intentionally sat alone at lunch. He didn't whisper in class, nor did he pass notes like the other kids.

Weirdly, the only kid he seemed to tolerate had been Naruto, whom Sakura had immediately disliked purely because he seemed to know Sasuke when she didn't. But she knew true love was worth a fight, so she sucked it up and befriended Naruto in order to meet Sasuke on good terms. She had seen too many other girls get outright rejected by him when they simply approached him.

Somehow, it worked. Sasuke didn't seem to like anybody, but when Naruto had exuberantly introduced them— _this is Sakura, Sasuke! Isn't she beautiful?_— he simply grunted and let her eat lunch with them. The two boys quickly became a firm fixture in her life. She saw them nearly every day.

On weekends, Naruto would drag them to the city park and pretend he knew how to skip rocks across the lake. They rented a paddle boat one time, but their pedaling had been so out of sync that they didn't travel far at all. They would eat ice cream, feed the ducks, have races, fence with sticks, have snowball fights, talk. Sometimes, Sasuke even smiled and then Naruto would make fun of him for breaking his "cool facade" and the moment would be ruined.

When walking, Sakura and Naruto always ensured that Sasuke was in the middle. They would link their arms and tell him to lead the way. The stick in the mud that he was though, Sasuke would often shove them away, lead them to a bench, sit down, and tell them to leave him alone.

Those days were worse than others, and instead of playing and trying to coax a smile out of him, Naruto and Sakura would fill the silence with memories and stories about their future: where they would travel, celebrities they would meet, who they would marry— _I'm going to marry _you, _Sasuke!_ and then, _No you're not, Sakura! You're going to marry _me! _Or some handsome, rich guy from France at least. Sasuke doesn't deserve you!_

One day Naruto declared that none of them would marry and that the three of them would live in a big house together, happily, like some family on TV. That time, Sasuke had joined Sakura in laughing. The idea was too absurd to be taken seriously.

There were days when Sasuke refused to come to school. He holed himself up in his room and yelled at his foster parents to leave him alone. Naruto and Sakura would be welcomed into the apartment quietly— _Sasuke's not feeling good today. Maybe you can cheer him up? I'm so happy that he has friends like you two. I'll bring you three some cookies in a moment._

Those days, Sakura would hold his hand while they sat on his bed. Naruto sat on his desk and tried to explain to Sasuke why he shouldn't be so mopey all the time. Life sucked, but it was fun too, right?

Sakura felt sure that he was always ignored and that _she_ had the privilege of being listened to. Sitting on his bed, holding his hand had always felt romantic, even when she tried giving him advice like her mother would give her. The moment was intimate and even clumsy words of comfort couldn't spoil the mood.

She would hold his hand in her lap, fingers laced, and tell him that he was allowed to be angry. But that anger wouldn't do him any good if it was all he felt. You had to feel other things too, you know, in order to know what you were really angry about. If you only felt one way all the time, how did you know you felt that way at all? Some days, you were just angry at the world, but unless you knew what you _really_ hated, how could you do anything about it? So you had to be happy sometimes, too.

Her palm would sweat, but Sasuke wouldn't pull his hand away. Then she would promise him that she'd always be there for him. He could always come to her, because she loved him and that was a fact.

Sakura refused to dwell on whether or not she still loved him. Loving him hadn't done any good when they were kids or even when they were dating. Loving him when he was a runaway junkie surely led down the same dead-end path.

She _had_ to feel this way. Being angry at Sasuke was so much better than being sad about him. Anger and rejection allowed her to move on with her life, she was convinced of it. She had the strength to continue seeing other friends, to plan her future. She might not have had a boyfriend since Sasuke, but she also hadn't turned into a useless pool of tears, dreaming about his return.

If Sasuke ever left Orochimaru, force quit his addiction, and asked for help, it would be on his own terms. Neither Naruto nor Sakura, no one, could convince him that living clean was worth it. He had rejected life years before his first needle. Naruto ought to realize that.

Looking at Naruto's determined, bruised face compelled Sakura to truly examine how she had let Sasuke's betrayal affect her. How did Naruto do it? All of his tension regarding Sasuke seemed only to encourage Naruto to improve himself. He dug his feet into the ground and drove himself forward despite the pain in his heart. Sakura had tightly wrapped a part of her heart around his memory, but she was realizing that so far it had only served as an anchor rather than the sail of motivation as it seemed to have done for Naruto. She had only floated through her life since Sasuke left.

"Oh, god, Naruto, that was so _stupid_. He _hates_ Itachi. You shouldn't have talked to him at all, let alone _mention_ _him._"

"Yeah, but Sakura . . . He just seemed so _dead_. It's like the only thing that can make him feel now is anger. I wanted to get a reaction out of him, to see if he was still alive on any level, that Orochimaru hadn't sucked everything out of him yet. So I kept talking. Even when he first tried to hit me, I kept talking. It was stupid, yeah, but I was just so happy to see that something in him was still alive, you know?"

"_Naruto_, promise me you'll never do something like that again. Swear that you'll have some shred of _self-preservation_ next time. You don't have to be a _martyr _ to try and prove to Sasuke that we love him. Because it won't _fucking_ prove anything except that you've lost your goddamn mind._ Promise me, Naruto_."

His mouth parted in shock.

"Sa-Sakura . . . I can't do that. I mean, there's still _hope_. I can't give up on him. He needs us, Sakura. I know it."

Sakura sat back on her stool and stared Naruto in the face. Even tear stained cheeks and a runny nose couldn't diminish the look of utter seriousness on her face. Naruto's lip had split again, too much talking she guessed, but thankfully it was no longer bleeding. The ice pack had been left on the table and had probably started melting by now. She would have to fix him another one.

"I'm not telling you to give up hope, Naruto. I'm asking you to stop hurting yourself over this. Stop . . . Stop trying to drag Sasuke back. He made his choices and he's where he wants to be. I believe that he has the strength to leave it if he wants to. But, Naruto, he . . . I don't think hates us yet. You said he didn't react when you mentioned us, and well, that's better than trying to break your face in. You can still have hope and believe in him, Naruto, but please. I don't want you getting hurt over him anymore. He- It's not worth it. Let's just live our lives and know that he's still alive until we- if we ever find a body."

Holding his hands in her own, they simply stared at each other. Sakura imagined a range of emotions swell within his eyes: shock at her plea, rejection of the whole idea, anguish for Sasuke, hope that he'll find his way, mourning for a lost friend, and acceptance for the care of his own well-being.

She remained resolutely silent. This was _important, goddamn it_. She would get what she wanted.

"I-I promise, Sakura." He squeezed her hands in emphasis. "I . . . won't hurt myself over Sasuke anymore. I still believe in him and I don't believe he's a lost cause, but you're . . . probably right. If Sasuke comes back to us, it will be on his own terms."

He audibly swallowed and forced a wobbly grin on his face, "I won't let Sasuke ruin what we've made for ourselves."

Sakura sucked in her lower lip and smiled back.

"We can't make him love us back, but now he knows we still think about him." She gently brushed her thumb over his swollen cheek and handed him back the towel of ice. "Keep this on your face. We want the swelling to go down."

He settled the towel against his cheek, obscuring part of his vision as well as her view of his face.

"Sakura?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think Sasuke actually wants to die, you know? If he wanted to _die_, he'd have done it already."

". . . I suppose you're right, Naruto."

Sakura tilted her head so that her hair hid her face. It was so much easier to focus on moving forward when she had convinced herself that Sasuke was a lost cause. She had just made Naruto promise her he wouldn't continue chasing after Sasuke, but she couldn't make him stop talking about him. That wouldn't be fair. She was the only one who understood. They needed each other for support. She would learn how to walk on her own again and smile for herself, not for some boy. In the meantime, she still needed a friend and Naruto still needed her, even if only to clean up his wounds.

"Sasuke's so angry, you know? It's like all he's running on is anger and hatred now. But that's not all he is, right, Sakura? We both know that he has good memories and love in there, too, you know? So, whenever he stops being so angry, he'll realize that he's not so empty after all."

Sakura grit her teeth. She had hoped that the conversation had ended, but she knew that Naruto needed this. He needed to believe that nothing was hopeless. Sakura thought that perhaps Naruto was the most masochistic optimist you could ever meet.

"If you say so, Naruto."

Personally, she believed that in order for Sasuke to become so embittered with hate and anger, he had first warped every happy memory inside him. Old laughter and cheerful memories would have to be repressed or perverted in order to lay a foundation for such determined anger. If Sasuke hadn't twisted their memories into dark, manipulative shadows, they would have to be firmly hidden beneath layers of self-hate and loathing. Surely, any remnant of happiness would shake his resolve to destroy himself, right?

"I believe it, Sakura. Sasuke's not a lost cause and even if I keep myself away from him now, I'm still rooting for him. And so are you, right, Sakura? Whenever he returns, he'll have us to welcome him back. He can count on that."

Naruto was _definitely_ the most masochistic optimist Sakura could imagine. Years of frantic worrying, wondering, and imagining finding his best friend's dead body one day had done nothing but strengthen Naruto's hope and confidence in Sasuke's redemption. While Sakura had no confidence in Sasuke himself, she did believe in Naruto. If anyone could possibly will something into happening by sheer belief and love, it was him. The boy— nearly a man— epitomized resilience itself. He gave Sakura hope when she had forced herself to believe there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of Sasuke's return.

She would still try not to think about it. Dwelling on the past inhibited moving on, after all. But, perhaps in those moments of recollection Sakura wouldn't be so regretful anymore. She wouldn't hold her breath, but Naruto's pure and candid confidence in Sasuke lightened a wisp of Sakura's anguish. All of his fierce hope had to produce some result, any result. Naruto had the power to change people, Sakura believed it.

"Right. We won't be waiting, Naruto, but he'll always have us. And," she took a deep breath. She didn't want Naruto to get the wrong idea of what she was going to say, but she had to tell him. He deserved a vote of confidence from his remaining best friend. "I believe in you, Naruto. If anyone can convince Sasuke he can still come back, it's you."

A huge grin shone at her in appreciation. Naruto's face was still swollen and bruised, but even a lumpy ice pack couldn't hide his happiness at her support. He gave a jack-o-lantern smile once more, but much more cheerful this time than his previous bloated, masochistic grin. Sakura belatedly wiped her cheeks and grinned back.

"Thanks, Sakura. I promised I won't try to drag Sasuke back anymore, but you need to promise me not to lose hope again, okay? You love Sasuke too much to betray him like he did us. You can't hate him, anymore. He . . . he might not want us anymore, but he can find us when he needs us. You can't give up hope, Sakura. You can't, okay?"

She drew a shaky breath in hesitation, ". . . Okay. If Sasuke comes back, I . . . I won't turn my back on him. But this is mostly for your sake. I'm not as forgiving as you, Naruto, but I at least won't spit in his face if he needs us."

Naruto slowly nodded. "I understand . . . And Sasuke _will_ come back. He won't let Orochimaru control him forever. I believe in him." He nodded again, stronger this time. "Even if it's only anger right now, he's still strong."

She smiled back at him, but it wasn't as genuine or confident as his own. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, producing a close-mouthed and sadly wary smile. Sasuke was still someone to be wary of, someone to become a sour memory, a hurdle she had stumbled over in her young life to become the person she wanted to be. She didn't want to rely on anyone anymore. No single person outside of herself would be allowed to dictate her happiness, especially the memory of an angry and bitter teenager. She would do her best to forget about him for the time being, but she wouldn't resent him. Sakura would no longer reserve a dark place in her heart for hating and regretting his memory. Trying to allow her pent up feelings to dissipate into nothing felt anticlimactic. A loose space sagged in her heart.

Despite her beliefs that she had given up on Sasuke, that he didn't matter anymore, she had still allowed him to drag her down. Hate had weighed down once happy memories and now, even if they weren't as happy as they once were, Memories bubbled up from her heart, releasing faded emotions that tasted faintly acidic on her tongue. Naruto still sat on a stool in her kitchen holding a towel of ice to his swollen face. Reasons to hate Sasuke were still abundant, but she breathed out deeply and reminded herself that not two minutes ago, she consciously stopped resenting Sasuke. Old habits died hard. Sakura breathed deeply again, releasing the tension she still felt in chest and tried smiling once again at Naruto.

He was still looking at her, though not as intently as before. He didn't furrow his brow and the arm not holding the ice pack supported his body by leaning against the table. The bloodied glass of water still stood next to him. Blood, snot, and tears stained the front of Naruto's hoodie, and the thought that he would have to wear something else for a change did make her smile a bit more freely.

Grabbing a napkin from the holder on the table, she scrubbed her face clean and ran her fingers through her hair as a habit. It rarely tangled, but the simple act of brushing the short strands away from her face made her think clearer. Feeling a bit more stable, Sakura gave Naruto a cheeky grin and said,

"I love you, Naruto, and you're my best friend, but don't you _ever_ get yourself so beat up again and come pounding on my door. I'll always fix you up, but if you ever let Sasuke or someone else beat you to a pulp again, count on me to finish the job. I'll punch you and I'll finish the other guys, too. If you're going to get your face smashed in again, bring back the other guy so you can prove to me that you fought back. Don't make me freak out like that again. Okay?"

Perhaps a bit maliciously, Sakura tweaked Naruto's nose to emphasize her meaning.

"Ehh! Sakura, _ow!_ I promise, okay! Some bedside manner _you_ have, hmph."

Sakura chuckled as she stood up to avoid the playful kick aimed at her shins.

"I'll go get us some new water, okay? Keep that ice on."

Handing Naruto his new glass of water, Sakura set down her own and smoothed her skirt out from under her as she sat. They sat quietly and sipped their drinks. For a minute the only noises in the kitchen were the ticking clock and their noisy sips.

Without permission, a small daydream of an idea fluttered up into Sakura's mind and she briefly imagined Naruto dragging back a battered Sasuke into her kitchen one day. Erased with a blink of her eyes, Sakura ignored it. This afternoon had been emotionally exhausting. The tears and desperate pleas from before had run their course and left behind a moody awkwardness that neither she nor Naruto approved of.

"Do you still hurt? I mean, like, your face?"

"Eh, yeah, a bit, yeah."

"Want some Advil?"

"Nah, I'm good."

". . . Want some Vaseline for your lip?"

"Eh, I'm good for now, thanks."

Unexpectedly, Naruto chuckled. Sakura looked at him quizzically, wondering what he had been thinking about.

"Eh, never mind. Sorry, it's just that . . . yeah. It's um, you know. Right?"

He suddenly looked worried that she in fact _didn't_ know what he meant— that her own thoughts and insides weren't writhing together in an emotional mess, too. Maybe Naruto misjudged the tension in the air. Maybe her emotions were in a knot, maybe they weren't. Maybe all their thoughts and worries had knotted themselves into large bow which a single, well-placed tug could slide the whole mess into an orderly line again.

She wryly grinned back at him, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like . . . _that_." She flippantly waved her hand as if that somehow conveyed the emotional turmoil each of them was sorting through at that moment. Maybe it did.

Naruto smiled in relief.

"Yeah, it's all like _that._"

Shuffling their feet against the foot rests of the stools, the two of them sat in a silence much less moody and awkward than the one from only a few minutes ago. They noisily sipped their water while the clock ticked until Naruto's ice pack melted enough to dampen the surrounding towel. Setting it down with shake of his hand and brusque wipe against his cheek, Sakura and Naruto both tacitly understood that as the cue for the end of their afternoon.

**.**

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